


Old Acquaintances

by MsCFH



Series: Corporate AU [5]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 19:31:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19116256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsCFH/pseuds/MsCFH
Summary: In a night that is supposed to be their first public outing as a couple, Sansa and Margaery run into a mutual old acquaintance, leaving things... interesting.





	Old Acquaintances

In October the Maidenpool Opera Festival was the place to be in Westeros. A whole weekend traditional started off with a classic showing of the opera of Florian and Jonquil, followed by a gracious gala the same night and various more occasions such as exclusive dinners, art exhibitions, presentations; all concluded on Sunday night with a gorgeous light show over the sea.

No one who was someone in Westeros dared to miss it. It was the perfect opportunity to put yourself in the spotlight, to network, to strike future cooperations.

Or so Margaery had been told.

So far she had not attended. Tickets were strictly limited and attending as a representative for Tyrell Corporation was something that Olenna Tyrell had not given out of her hand. Not even to her beloved granddaughter. Had as she had ever so directly put it, while every confidence in her abilities, not enough confidence of her granddaughter’s “capability to put the needed focus on matters of importance”.

When Olenna had announced that she would be attend this year Margaery had been equally surprised and thrilled; up until the explanation for this change of mind.

“It will pose the perfect opportunity for a first official outing with Ms. Stark.”

Any other day Margaery knew better to question the why, when the result was what she wanted, but the words left the tinged the anticipation the tiniest bit. Being send for matters of publicity rather than a newly developed trust in her abilities did not sit entirely right with her.

She’d had known that Olenna had eyed the development of her and Sansa’s relationship with Argus eyes.

And not just her. In the last few weeks the staff of both, the Winterfell and Highgarden headquarters had caught on that the quite regular visits of both her and Sansa had not so much of an official purpose as a private one. The first tentative questions from media had arrived in both companies and the agreement to make it official had been more of a conclusion between her grandmother and Robb Stark as opposed to really involving Sansa or Margaery directly.

The emails going back and forth between both executives, discussing the details of their first appearance, had kept both her and Sansa in copy, but really only so much for informative purpose than considering them personally.

That had not gone down well with either of them, and had led to some arguments in both companies and families, but in the end both of them where business-minded enough to understand that it was a good and important move, and on a personal level, one they were ready for and wanted.

They had been together now - when Margaery referred to it she usually avoided the term dating because technically that would them set back a good six weeks - for nearly five months. The long distance aspect did not always make it easy, it was a large ordeal of video chats, of flying back and forth, weekends spent more with travelling than actually spending time together it felt sometimes.

Not that it was not absolutely worth it. Margaery would easily board a fifteen hour flight every week if it meant getting to spend only an hour with Sansa.

It had been a couple of years since she’d fallen for someone this considerably and all consuming. She’d done her fair share of dating, had relationships, but it had been a long time since anybody swept her off her feet as Sansa Stark had.

That was something she was more than ready to scream out into the world for anyone to hear, and really, pride and career aside - what better way was there to do this than a the country’s oldest and most elegant festival.

They sat in the back of the town car that would bring them to the new opera house, an expectant silence between them ever since they’d left their hotel room. Not entirely unpleasant, but not altogether relaxed either. More of a tense apprehension, that was altogether unnecessary - because what was supposed to happen?- but nevertheless still there.

With the car stopping, with her own intake of breath, Margaery felt a hand intertwine tightly with her own.

“Ready to give those hacks something interesting to write about?” The soft smile Sansa gave her could not hide that she was the slightest bit nervous, but it was reassuring nevertheless.

The hand that was tightly in her own did not let go for another second afterwards. Not as they got out of the car, smoothing out their gowns for a moment. The hold only grew firmer when they reached the press tent where flashes of cameras greeted them and picked up their frequency.

That was to be expected really. Even without them holding hands, pictures of two beautiful young executives most likely sold a whole lot better than those of stuffy old couples in evening attire.

The merge of branches from Stark Inc. and Tyrell Corp. had hit the trade press with a lot of interest, to have the two leading ladies show up here now, in their first official outing as a couple? Well, those headlines wrote themselves.

Margaery could not help, but feel proud just how well they handled this. In the end they were both nothing if not professionals at this. Representing, smiling for the cameras, it was something that both of them did in their sleep.

The largest amount of pride Margaery harboured came with having the world know that she was with this absolutely gorgeous woman.  Sansa looked like an absolute goddess in her strappy floor length black dress that was form fitting and elegant in the very best way.

Their outfits, had been signed off by Olenna herself and Margaery’s high collared blue sleeveless gown, complimented Sansa’s perfectly.

They looked like a million dollars and they both knew it.

In all the ordeal, what they had come here, been sent here for, what was the purpose of their appearance, could not have lasted more than two or three minutes, and then they were out of the flashlights and ushered inside; found themselves in a beautiful venue where a glass of champagne was handed to both of them.

Weeks of preparation for a moment that in the end seemed to be over way too fast, but now that the business part was taken care of, Margaery very much looked forward to the pleasure part of it all.

And Sansa seemed to be on board with that as she hooked her arm through Margaery’s and spoke right into her ear. “In case I haven’t told you yet, you look absolutely stunning.”

“Took you long enough,” Margaery shot back with a teasing smile, just adoring the playful roll of blue eyes that they triggered.

She placed a kiss on Sansa’s cheek when they had reached their seats. “So do you darling, most ravishing.”

The festival itself was everything that Margaery wanted it to be. The new opera house was an impressive work of architectural art under normal circumstance, but under for this festival it blossomed to its full potential.

Likewise the opera of the unfortunate love between Florian the Fool and the princess Jonquil  was stunning. Margaery knew the story of course, had found considered it the classic kitschy tale, but the certain edge that the stage work, the costumes, the classic music brought to it was nothing short of amazing and had the effect of having her consider the tale with complete new eyes.

Margaery was not someone who listened to a lot of classical music, but it did leave her thoroughly impressed, and with the need to gush about it afterwards while they made their way into the lobby where everything was set up for the ensuing gala. The entire venue had been set up with bar tables covered with starched white tablecloths, the room solely lit by what she estimated to at least a couple thousand of candles.

They had gotten their own private bar table reserved at a bit of an secluded spot on the outer balcony overlooking the sea, with an surprisingly warm wind encompassing them.

As they clinked their glasses and shared a gentle kiss, Margaery could not imagine a less perfect night if she tried.

It was after a good half an hour or so that Margaery’s hand itched for her clutch on the table for the first time and she gave Sansa a mischievous smile. “Do you think it is too early to check the news pages for what they wrote about us?”

“I did not plan to check it at all,” Sansa gave back. “That is up to our PR teams.”

Sansa sober tone did not fit her own mood, but did not discourage her.

“Are you scared that your Westerosi Tribute will not have very kind words for your first public outing with a southern liberal?”

Sansa shot her a playful look upon the mention of the newspaper that she read and that Margaery hated with a burning fire. “I’ll be surprised if they refer to you as anything as my very close friend.”

The argument of why she read that reactionary, homophobic waste of paper in the first place was once again on Margaery’s tongue, like so many times before, but unlike those other times they would not have the opportunity here to conclude the argument that this would ensue in in their usual way -on top of the kitchen counter, breakfast table, the couch- and so Margaery swallowed it and let go of her purse, and instead turned her body into Sansa’s.

“I knew I should have kissed you in front of the cameras,” she mused.

“Your grandmother would have been overjoyed,“ Sansa smiled softly at her and met her lips in a tender kiss, brushing a hand over her cheek as she pulled back, her look slightly more serious. „I have to tell you I’m still kind of overwhelmed with the vast detail in her instructions for us.”

It was nothing new to Margaery; her grandmother’s all-embracing need to control just about everything. She’d grown up with it and learned to deal with it; likewise learned to ignore itwhen necessary. Though she could see that for someone not as used to it as herself it had to be off putting.

“You’ll learn to filter,” Margaery assured. “Grandmother is strict, but she is not one to bear grudges.

“Otherwise you would have been disinherited about a decade ago,” an direly familiar voice drawled from behind them.

Margaery’s smile froze on her face seconds before her head swung around.

“If this isn’t a sight for sore eyes I do not know what is.”

The sight of Yara Greyjoy almost a decade after she'd seen her last had the very strange effect on Margaery.

She could not shake of the initial instinct of feeling overjoyed to see her, of being excited that she was here.

The brain was a strange thing for certain; once a certain reaction to an occurrence was embedded in it, it was hard to get rid of it again.

In this moment, looking at the woman before her in her white dress shirt, tugged into equally spotless white pants, her hair halfway pulled up in a tight bun, it took Margaery actively recalling the negative feelings that this woman had left her with to rid herself of that very strange excitement.

Margaery being Margaery of course still managed to bring a friendly smile to her face, that froze into something resembling a grimace when she heard Sansa’s excited exclaim next to her.

“Yara! What are you doing here?”

And as if that had not been enough, Sansa all but leapt around the table and closed her arms in a friendly embrace around the woman who had made Margaery’s life - exciting, exhausting, bitter sweet? - _interesting_ for almost a whole year.

Margaery’s hands reached for her glass, needing something to hold onto something as she watched Yara and Sansa standing way too close to each other, smiling all too friendly.

“The old man’s refusal to stop smoking through a heavy bronchitis has landed him in the hospital and so he had no choice but to let me me fill in for him.”

She looked and spoke exactly like Margaery remembered her, always the hint of a smirk on her lips, always something bold in her eyes. For a moment the memory nearly overwhelmed her when Yara focused away from Sansa and appeared in her personal space, breathing a kiss to her cheek.

“Good to see you,” Yara greeted. “Long time.”

“You two know each other?” Sansa smiled brightly as she looked between the two of them.

Yeah, my thoughts fucking exactly, Margaery deadpanned in her mind.

“Margy and I go way back,” Yara announced taking a step back, leaving Margaery finally able to breathe again and likewise suppress any memories that the nickname wanted to trigger.

Yara’s eyes were suggestive enough as she looked her over and the feeling of being undressed by eyes that had seen her naked countless times almost made Margaery squirm.

“We met in uni,” Margaery offered rather vaguely. “We were in the same economics class.”

“Small world.”

Sansa looked so wonderfully clueless just as Margaery’s thoughts flashed to the real occasion she had gotten to know Yara, when they had hooked up in a bathroom of a bar, where today she would not consider to even wash her hands.

“Now allow me to return that question to you,” Margaery pushed any other thoughts back and looked between her girlfriend standing on her right and her ex -if you could call her that- standing opposite to them. “How do you guys know each other?”

“Our families companies have a long history of collaboration,” Sansa explained.

“Not always the most amicable one,” Yara added making a face. “My lovely father can be kind of a dick.”

“Kind of is putting it rather nicely,” Sansa returned with a chuckle. “Asshole is more like it.”

It was a bold statement to make about anyone's family member, and Margaery knew that Yara was protective of her father, no matter how terrible he could be at times. Her calling him out was something entirely different than anybody else daring to. In a way Margaery understood that, because it was in a way how she reacted to anybody, but herself and Loras referring to Olenna in unfriendly terms.

And yet Yara threw back her head and laughed.

“So is it safe to say that you’re daddy issues have gotten better?,” Margaery threw in.

“Let’s say I learned how to handle him a lot better than most,” Yara said unaffected, her head tilting then. “Can you say the same for your Grandmother?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Margaery returned with a stickily sweet smile on her lips.

“A pity,” Yara mused as she took the glass of whiskey a bartender handed to her. “You rebelling against her was a splendid look on you.”

The flirtatious tone and the implication were obvious and Margaery caught Sansa’s eyes darting between them and eyebrows shooting up.

“Yes well, I do not see you running around in jeans shorts and band shirts either.”

“I do actually,” Yara drew up an eyebrow. “You should come visit me on the Iron Islands once in a while.”

It was with those words that Margaery felt an arm ever so subtly settle on her waist, that let her know that Sansa had finally put two and two together, as apparently did Yara who caught the gesture with a noticing smile.

In an completely uncalled for manner Margaery felt a deep sense of glee rise within her. It was childish and petty, but just then she felt amazing.

Meeting an ex, was preferable when she looked like she did tonight, but meeting an ex with someone as gorgeous as Sansa Stark by her side, it made her feel on top of the world just then.

And the way Sansa’s arm was suddenly so tightly around her? That felt like a promise for something else entirely.

“You two must have been quite the duo back in the day.”

Sansa‘s tone was friendly, almost appropriately amused, only the way she still held onto Margaery told a different story.

Margaery's response was brought on by exactly that. “You could say that.”

A simple look into Yara’s eyes let her know that she comprehended perfectly what she was doing, and because she was who she was –bitch who broke her heart or not- she went along with it effortlessly.

“It was a rather wild time,” she threw in. “Sometimes I am amazed we made it out unharmed.”

Margaery smirked. “And that you only ended up in jail once.”

There was a barely noticeable shake of head coming from Yara, as if she could not believe that she was going _there_.

“You got arrested?” Sansa asked properly appalled and amused, all while fingers drew circles on Margaery's hip.

“You fail to mention the fact that I was not alone,” Yara clarified with raised eyebrows, taking a long sip from her glass.

Margaery pursed her lips. “It was your fault that we ended up there in the first place, not mine.”

Yara huffed. “In for penny, in for a pound, Margy.”

Again Sansa‘s expression was perfectly kept and friendly, harbouring just the right amount of amusement and surprise, only the growing fire in her eyes indicated how very little she appreciated this dwelling in memories. She turned to Margaery.

“ _You_ were arrested?”

There was something equally intrigued and appalled in her look; and dire jealousy.

“Not arrested. They made us stay a night in the drying-out-cell, because someone,” she threw an accusing look at her smirking opposite, “was so drunk off her ass, she refused to get off the side walk when the police came. I was really just collateral damage.”

Yara had started shaking her head before she had finished talking. “Innocent was never a good look on you,” she huffed in a chuckle. “You were just as shitfaced as I was.”

“Curious,” Margaery returned without missing a beat. “And here I thought you did not remember anything from that night.”

Only half a lie. Yara had claimed not to have any memory of the events of that particular night, but even then Margaery had known better. It was, or had been her curse with any shared drunk endeavours at the time; Yara did not seem to forget a single thing ever. Always ready to make fun of Margaery's behaviour, and of her inability to keep up with her.

“I remember that night in vast detail,” Yara‘s tone was suggestive, not leaving a doubt that she remembered exactly what had occurred in that cell.

Once upon a time, when she had still been hung up on the woman, when she held a bigger grudge than she could find in herself right now, perhaps this statement would have held a certain embarrassment for her, for just how humiliatingly she‘d tried to impress Yara back then at every given occasion.

She was a bit astonished just how far beyond that she was tonight. None of the humiliation, just youthful indiscretions that she could honestly laugh about.

Margaery still sighed dramatically. “The real sad part is that this was by no means the low point.”

Sansa‘s hand bordered on the curve of her ass. “Do tell _Margy_. What was the low point?”

Yara had leaned forward, her chin resting on her hand, her eyes drawing to her drink only for a moment before back to watching the interaction curiously.

“A definite tie between Piers bar and your fathers fiftieth,” she declared then.

Margaery raised her eyebrows  and chuckled with a shake of her head, partly for the memory, partly because she was all too aware of fingers all but piercing into her hip.

“No,” she announced with a shake of her head. “Sunspear.”

Yara snorted, nearly chocking on her drink and let out a loud throaty laughter. “Fuck. I had actually suppressed that.”

“And what exactly happened in Sunspear?” Sansa‘s ability to hide the bite in her tone was wavering.

Margaery threw Yara a quick glance, she was not particularly proud of it, it was one of those stories that still carried a deep sense of the initial mortification.

Thankfully Yara managed to keep it short and accurate. “Let’s just say it involved a concert, too much alcohol, skinny dipping and some very unfortunate jellyfish stings in … places.”

Margaery still felt her cheeks blush the slightest bit only remembering it. “That ER staff must have told the story of us coming in for years.”

Sansa gave another of those appropriate, but eventually joyless laughs. “I was guessing the two of you were trouble, I would have never guessed how much.”

Eyebrows shot up across the table and eyes were firmly on Margaery once again. “Kind of a shame that this wild side of you disappeared as your hair grew back out.”

Margaery only smiled softly at that. She wasn't. That had not been her, not to that extent, it had been a stupid defying of everything she had grown up with; and more than anything it had been a lot more for the sake of her infatuation with Yara than she still liked to admit even to herself.

“I think you would be surprised,” Sansa answered before Margaery could return anything. “Don't let that prim and proper look fool you for even a second.”

Sansa and Margaery shared a look just then, that had heat pool inside of Margaery and that Sansa leaning in and capturing her lips in a kiss that was slightly more intense than appropriate for the situation, for the eyes still watching them, definitely more tongue than appropriate for the most kind of public displays of affection, did not help.

Sansa was so blatantly marking her as her territory it should have annoyed her, but instead made her long for the gorgeous woman with the vice grip on her more than ever before.

Margaery felt the tiniest bit dizzy when Sansa pulled away, her sight clouded as she looked up at Sansa.

“You know,” it took Margaery a moment to gather her thoughts enough to look at Yara addressing them. “You two are seriously sexy.”

With a chuckle Margaery rested her head on Sansa's shoulder, simply because it was such a _Yara_ thing to say.

Yet, the sweet smile that Sansa offered was sharp as her tone. “We aware,” she stated. “Thank you.”

Margaery found herself pulled even tighter against her girlfriend as Sansa addressed the woman in front on them again. “You know that I adore you, Yara; but let's make one thing clear?”

Ever too amused eyes looked at them in expectation.

“I know you long enough to know what is going on in that head of yours, and no matter how fun I am sure that might be… I am not very good at _sharing_.”

That damn smirk was back in place and Yara shrugged. “You know me too well, I guess,” and again eyes drew over Margaery. “Pity though. Coaxing out Margy’s wild side would have been a fun joint venture.”

This exchange, Sansa’s possessiveness over her, Yara’s eyes looking at her like they were… Margaery was pretty sure she would not survive anything that went beyond a conversation. They’d kill her within an hour, she was pretty sure, maybe less.

Margaery cleared her throat, because suddenly breathing felt hard. “I do not think we need help in that regard,” she clarified.

“Fair enough.“ Yara bowed out with a gracious nod. “It’s not like you can blame me for trying.”

“We will book it as a compliment,” Sansa said and the way she pressed impossibly close to her let Margaery know that she was nearly as caught up in what had just transpired as Margaery was.

A face nuzzled into the side of Margaery's and hot breath tickled her ear. “Let's get the fuck out of here.”

The tone, the breath, the implication, left Margaery shuttering with anticipation.

Her hand entangled with Sansa’s and they barely took time to say goodbye to Yara who sent them off with the wish to have fun and not to be strangers.

Their whole way through the venue towards the exit seemed a single great running of the gauntlet, it was a big ordeal of hands subtly very much and very particular landing in places, but never quite the right places, given the public space they were in.

They shared their first proper kiss in the backseat of the car, as it rolled out onto the darker streets of Maidenpool and Margaery felt the fierceness, the possessiveness in the kiss that left her breathless. She cupped Sansa's face and in the darkness of the eyes searched her eyes.

“I ought to introduce you to more of my exes,” she breathed with a naughty smile.

Sansa tightened her hold on Margaery’s waist and her forehead dropped against hers. “You took way too much pleasure in that.”

Margaery smiled and shifted closer in her seat.

“Can you blame me? I am as vain as they come and you were all but ready to mount me right there.”

There was a dark look in Sansa eyes that was not altogether negative. “Did you consider it? Letting her come with us?”

“Did you?” Margaery shot back in challenge.

Lips were back on her own and Sansa tongue licked along them teasingly pulling away when Margaery attempted to deepen the kiss, leaving a good inch between them.

“For a second,” she whispered, and fingers danced over Margaery’s bare arm. “But she would not have touched you. I would have made her watch how we fuck, just how wild you are for me.”

Margaery wanted to moan out loud at the thought of Sansa claiming her like that, and for a moment she wondered if she had just discovered a very particular fetish there, if her words of a mental image left her this turned on.

She captured Sansa‘s lips in a slow kiss, her hand slipping to the back of her neck so she wouldn’t pull away. The hand that had been on her waist slipped lower and landed on her ass, pulling her closer. The materials of their dresses thin, and the only thing between them.

“Nobody fucks me or has ever fucked me like you do,” Margaery husked into Sansa ear. “And more importantly I don’t want anybody to.”

In a moment’s notice Sansa’s lips were back against her own and her tongue slipped inside her mouth, meeting Margaery’s in long slow strokes. It left her in such a daze she barely realized her dress being bunched up under Sansa’s touch, only realized it once soft fingers stroked along the inside of her thigh; still rather innocently a couple of inches away from her knee.

Margaery felt her breath hitching and her eyes darted to the driver who had his gaze focused on the road ahead and a shuddering breath left her lungs when Sansa moved up further.

Lips abandoned hers and found the side of her neck, sucking for a moment then leaving an almost chaste kiss below her earlobe and the hand that drew patterns on sensitive skin stilled.

“Tell me if this is too much,” Sansa whispered. “I can stop.”

It was not the usual teasing, not a playful threat to leave her hot and bothered. She seemed genuinely concerned that she was taking it too far.

Margaery used the moment that all the touches halted, in which blue eyes with blown pupils looked up at her to try and gather how she felt about it.

It was daring; more so than anything they had ever done before.

One look into the mirror by the driver and he would gather exactly what they were doing, what she let Sansa do to her.

Margaery was honestly shocked when she arrived at the conclusion how very little she cared about that. She was drunk by Sansa’s behaviour tonight, by the way it made her feel… desirable, sexy, loved… _turned on,_ all at once.

“I trust you,” she gave back in a lowered tone, her face buried in Sansa’s hair.

Her hand covered Sansa’s and she pushed it further up beneath her dress.

She loved that she didn’t need to tell her to be subtle, not voice any concerns to avoid anything that would give them away.

A kiss was placed against the bare skin of her shoulder and then Sansa leaned her head against it, giving the perfect impression of resting after a long exhausting night; and the way Margaery closed her eyes and her head fell back against the headrest fit the picture; even while nimble fingers found Margaery’s panties and started teasing her through the material. Up and down, again and again, feather like touches, no pressure, not directed where Margaery longed for it so desperately.

The ride back to the hotel would take them a good twenty minutes and Sansa was well aware that she had time; almost as if lost in thought she continued outlining Margaery’s folds through the silky material. She brushed fingers along the inside of her thighs, alternated between maddening brief caresses where Margaery needed them and more specific ones just a hint alongside where Margaery would have liked them most.

Sansa knew her body well; knew it and had explored each and every touch and what reaction it caused within Margaery. Had spent whole days and nights, where they had skipped eating, sleeping, drinking, doing nothing but that with her lips, tongue and fingers.

The only thing that they had perhaps not quite encountered or explored to the full extent were things that related to fantasy, to scenarios… things like this very public ordeal.

Margaery had not known that the danger of getting caught could have her this very turned on, so close on the verge of coming; even with just those brief and teasing touches she was sure it would not take her very long to get there. She was completely enwrapped by the soft slow building pleasure Sansa brought her, so lost in that, she was by no means prepared for fingers that suddenly and without warning focused on her clit through her damp underwear.

She bit her lip to hold back any sounds, entirely thankful when Sansa’s free hand got a hold of her own, giving her something to hold onto.

Where touches had been maddeningly random before, now all there was left was purpose. The circling motion did not stop for another single moment, just picked up pressure and pace.

The skirt of her dress was loose enough not only to conceal what exactly Sansa was doing, but likewise allowed her to spread her legs further, while her nails dug into Sansa’s hand, as she tried and failed to keep her breathing from becoming noticeably laboured.

The knowledge of how very inappropriate this was, how forbidden, was exciting; as was the awareness that she would not care if the driver turned around in this very moment, that she would need Sansa to keep going either way. She was too close, too pent up not to, never this turned on in her life before.

Sansa’s fingertips went a bit faster and firmer against her and for once she could not keep back the mumbled “Fuck” from escaping her lips.

She would not be able to keep quiet, not if Sansa kept up what she was doing - _and she better_.

Just what had she gotten herself into here?

That was her biggest dilemma.

Not that she was being fucked in the back of a car, not that a complete stranger could turn around in a moment’s notice and see that - no. It was that she did not give a damn for either of those things. Sansa could fuck her in the middle of a crowded room  and all that she would feel was excitement and pride, for being the one at the receiving end of her touch and having everybody know that she was the only one who got that.

Sansa’s lips swallowed the groan that came with her orgasm with a deep kiss. The feel of lips, of a tongue licking into her mouth, all while fingers still worked their magic was almost too much just then. Margaery’s body arched off the leather seats right into Sansa’s and only then Sansa stilled her ministrations and idly pulled back as she wiped fingers along the inside of her thigh.

Margaery blinked her eyes open then and through her fog of lust that only ever so slowly lifted itself off her, met blue ones looking at her full of love.

She leaned into Sansa’s touch while snuggling safely against her for the remains of the ride, Sansa’s hand firmly resting on her mid-thigh.

Getting out of the car they effortlessly slipped into the picture of the perfect couple they were supposed to represent. Some media had gathered in hopes to get a glimpse of returning attendants and they dutifully posed for pictures.

It was not only the remaining arousal, the pleasant ache that Margaery felt between her legs so very clearly that had her beyond thrilled as they made their way through the hotel lobby. It was more so Sansa. The way she looked at her, which let her know how turned on this whole ordeal, the knowledge of what they had just done to her girlfriend, left her.

All the way back to their room they did not speak, quietly held hands instead, shared looks, presented the gracious decency they were supposed to and that was appropriate for their surroundings.

Even once their door had closed behind them, the silence remained for a moment. They did not attack each other like they had so many times before. Instead they stood there, for a long moment smiling at each other.

Sansa remained leaning against the door, when Margaery was already inside the room, slipping off her shoes and working on ridding herself off her earrings. Once she caught the eyes that were watching her intensely she smiled.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she quipped placing silver earrings on the side table, turning fully to Sansa.

She still saw the adoration, the lust in Sansa’s features, but there was something else in there, something that seemed almost reluctant? When she pushed herself off the door and made her way into the suite she only granted the hand that Margaery was holding out a brief squeeze and then went on to sit down on the couch.

Margaery twisted her head, following her movements.

“Is everything alright, darling?”

Sansa’s look focused on her fingers tapping against the armrest, her tone very quiet when she finally spoke.

“Do you still have feelings for her?”

Margaery’s mouth stood agape for a second, gathering the reason for Sansa’s behaviour. That she was jealous had been a given, but that she was insecure about it? She’d hardly seen Sansa insecure about anything at all more than a handful of times.

She would have teased her about it - made a mental note to do so in the future - because she could not believe that someone as smart and confident as her girlfriend did not gather that she was so head over heels in love with her that there was no room for someone else, not even the thought.

“I don’t,” Margaery returned calmly and sincerely, taking a few steps towards Sansa.

“Okay then,” Sansa returned, looking up at Margaery who’d come to a stop in front of her.

Margaery allowed the first teasing smile then. “With all your confidence and intelligence you can be adorably clueless, you know that?”

Ignoring the protest she felt building in Sansa, Margaery lowered herself onto her lap, side saddle style, slinging an arm around her shoulders and kissing slightly pouting lips tenderly.

“I let you fuck me in the back of a taxi and your mind goes to considering I might want somebody else.”

She understood it too some level, the talk that had led them to this moment in the car, the whole situation with Yara to begin with could be misread as something more.

Sansa’s hands clasped on her hips and she pulled her tight. “Someone once told me that communicating insecurities is important.”

“Must have been someone really smart,” Margaery smiled, leaning into Sansa’s touch.

It had been the morning after the first night she had slept over in Sansa’s place, where the day before a stomach bug and a heated discussion about their so different political point of views had left Margaery waking up feeling exhausted mentally and physically in equal measures. She had voiced her concern then that she did honestly not know if she could be with someone who had such a vastly different opinion in basic views of the world.

That whole day had been just that, them talking, arguing, cuddling, fucking and more talking and contemplating. They had not reached a resolution, and it had never been about that in the first place, but about them being honest with each other. Of being able to throw things at each other’s heads and still fall back into the others arms afterwards; to be able to forget all differences when it mattered.

“Let me do some communicating,” Margaery said. “I love you, and only you. And if it looked like I enjoyed Yara’s presence tonight then alone for your behaviour around her.” She chuckled and nuzzled her nose against Sansa’s cheek. “You seemed so ready to mount me right there and then…” she slid their cheeks together and breathed right into Sansa’s ear. “And I would have let you.”

Sansa’s lips found the line of her jaw and Margaery could feel her smile just then. “Now you are telling me.”

Margaery sunk into the soft caress with a smile. “Now that we have settled that, can we continue to a more pressing issue?”

“And what would that be, Ms. Tyrell?” Sansa mumbled against the skin of her neck, concluding the question with an open mouthed kiss.

The nickname, the one that reminded her of their early days together, along with the action brought a shiver through Margaery and for a moment she tilted her head back letting soft lips suck at her pulse point.

“Why the hell are we still dressed?”

Sansa chuckled and her breath tickled as she spoke. “Not properly satisfied yet?”

Intense eyes followed Margaery as she got to her feet and unzipped her dress at the side, letting it pool at her feet, a black pair of matching underwear following a moment later. Sansa’s smile widened as she stood before her for only a moment and then instead of dragging her along, walked into the direction of the bed. Margaery threw an expectant look over her shoulder before plopping down on her side on white sheets.

Sansa remained where she was for half a minute, taking in the sight, before following her example and towering over her at the foot end of the bed.

“You know,” Sansa spoke as her hands found the zipper at the back of her own dress and she pulled it down excruciatingly slow, not letting Margaery out of her sight for even a second. “In the interest of honest communication-” she slid one arm out of the dress “-you asked before how I knew Yara-” the other arm followed suit “-and I am afraid that I left it to vague there.”

Black silk pooled at her feet, leaving her only in her bra and panties, and she almost casually, pulled her hair over her right shoulder.

Margaery’s eyes had narrowed at the words. She had seen the way they had hugged, had for a moment there, before becoming all enwrapped in the memories and situation, wondered how they were so very familiar with each other.

She watched as long arms reached behind Sansa to unclasp her bra, once again all too slowly, all too calculated.

“Our families do go back in a long time of collaboration,” Sansa clarified sliding the bra off her arms. “But that was not the only involvement there was between us.”

Margaery kept her eyes on Sansa firmly, understanding the implication perfectly standing in next to nothing in front of her, hands rubbing absentmindedly -or so it was supposed to seem- at red marks the bra’s wire had left beneath both her breasts.

She likewise understood perfectly why she was bringing it up now, and that almost let her smile. Letting her taste her own medicine, of making her jealous.

Margaery rolled onto her back and pushed herself up on both of her elbows, watching the way how Sansa’s own hands were still on her chest, touching ever so innocently.

“It wasn’t, huh?”

“I think you know her well enough to confirm that she is a good friend.“ Sansa smirked. “A very good friend to a seventeen year old who is questioning her own sexuality and longing for a first experience.”

Margaery pursed her lips, watched the little off hand shrug that Sansa formed like it was hardly worth mentioning.

“I just thought you should know, so it doesn’t produce any … awkwardness in the future.”

The thing about Sansa was, while she claimed that had been Margaery introducing the importance of sincere communication to her, she mastered those communications skills like no one else.

Margaery did not have a doubt that she was actually being sincere in bringing it up now, so it would not be something that would fall on their feet later on. Only the twist of doing so while undressing, of the way she addressed it… that was the infuriating excitement that Sansa Stark was.

She was trying to let her feel how that jealousy, the knowledge of someone else having touched her, in a way that was reserved for Margaery now, felt - and she be damned it worked all to perfectly.

The thought, the knowledge that Sansa had spoken, embraced, smiled at someone tonight who’d seen things Margaery wanted to imagine were and only had ever been for her eyes, brought a feeling to her chest that could only be described as aggravation.

She had seen pictures of a seventeen year old Sansa, had been captivated by the lingering shyness that still was in her eyes back then, paired with already a good portion of she had evolved to. She would have loved to know her back then already, would have loved to see her journey to the woman she had become. It didn’t really matter that who had gotten that instead, it left her breathless with anger that it had not been her.

And left her with the need to affirm just how much she was hers and only hers now.

Sansa’s eyes seemed to read the entirety of thoughts that were running through her brain and the smirk was as outragepus as it had been before, growing bolder when her fingers hooked into her thong and pulling it down her legs. Eyebrows shot up, silently daring her.

_Your move, Tyrell._

And move Margaery did, she barely gave herself a second of admiring Sansa in all her glorious nakedness before pushing herself up on her hands and to the foot end of the bed.

The surprised shriek that came from Sansa when she circled her hands around both her thighs and pushed her tongue between her folds without a moment of hesitation, let alone a warning, her lips licking and sucking at her as the only outlet she had for the mild rage that had settled in her chest.

A throaty chuckle came from Sansa as she tilted her head back and drew fingers into the sideway updo on Margaery’s head.

“Suddenly so-” her words were interrupted by a moan when lips closed around her clit “-eager, are we?”

Margaery did not let up to answer, even if a million witty and sexy remarks were on her mind. Sansa had wanted her jealous and she did not know what she was in for just now. She tightened her hand around smooth thighs, her fingertips grazing the inside of them in the way she knew would have Sansa weak in her knees, all while still keeping her lips closed around her clit so fiercely she felt her jaw starting to ache after only a minute of keeping it up.

She was rewarded with hands that tightened in her hair, with the way Sansa’s hips curved towards her, her stance widening allowing her better access.

“Oh Gods, Marg don’t stop…”

The soft whining in Sansa’s tone was great enough to let her consider for a second drawing it out, not letting her come, but leaving her a begging withering mess. Only it was not what she wanted from her.

Not tonight, not right now.

Slow pleasurable torture was for other occasions, for moments when she wanted to draw things out.

Right now she needed her to come, hard, and repeatedly until every last thought of any past endeavours was erased from her mind and she remembered to whom she belonged.

The thought spurred her on, let her lips and tongue move faster against Sansa’s cunt, so much that sheer speed in which she made Sansa come just then, did leave her with a sense of pride. She relinquished in the taste and smell of her, the way she felt muscles flutter against her lips.

She did not allow her to come down from her high, did not grant her overstimulated core a moment of rest, but instead had her tongue slide up and down in broad licks. She felt the muscles in Sansa’s legs tremble and would have smiled had she not been so busy continuing what she was doing.

She did not miss a beat in letting the tip of her tongue continue to tease a swollen clit, let herself be guided by the way hips rocked against her, by the way fingers dangled in her hair tighter and tighter the longer she went on. She sucked on her clit once more and could only hope that the walls were properly soundproof, with the noises this triggered from Sansa.

Margaery made her cum like this, standing in front of her, putty under her touch, thrice more before her lips finally ascended again, her lips and chin covered in Sansa’s arousal.

She smiled against the skin of Sansa’s stomach, for a moment allowed herself to enjoy her warmth, and the way her whole body seemed still to be trembling with laboured breathing.

Then at last Margaery’s hands abandoned her legs and closed around her midriff instead, pulling her onto the bed. Sansa landed next to her, her chest heaving from surprise and from not having fully recovered from any of her previous orgasms.

Margaery had no intention in letting her do much recovery, only granted her a short kiss, before pushing her trembling thighs apart and bringing two fingers inside of her soaked pussy.

Sansa’s hips arched up at the sudden intrusion, her mouth opening in a scream that was suffocated as Margaery started to work first two, than three fingers in and out of her in good speed.

Margaery closed her lips around a nipple in a not all that gentle bite, smiling to herself once again at the way Sansa’s whole body curved up into her touch, her hips met her penetrating fingers, her chest heaving against her lips and tongue.  

This time when her orgasm hit, she felt Sansa’s muscles contracting around her fingers she did not ease up in the slightest, moved fingertips to her clit instead and started drawing tight and firm circles, not giving Sansa a chance to ride out her high, but instead refusing her to come down from it a tall.

Sansa’s head was shaking, she had both of her hands clutched into the sheets beneath her, was fighting to fill her lungs with air through the loud moans that Margaery’s touch tore from her.

Margaery kept going in a rapid pace that had the muscles in her arm cramping painfully and only finally let up once legs clamped tightly around her hand that was attempting entering her once again.

“Please,” Sansa rasped out, encircling her wrist tightly. “No more, I can’t--”

Margaery glanced up from where her she was leaving marks along her collarbone and looked into the hooded eyes of her girlfriend with a content smirk.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to stop?” She teased, while her hand went slack in Sansa’s grip.

Sansa hummed and shook her head still in a complete daze. “Only a minute… I just need… Gods...”

Margaery used the chance of the grip on her hand loosening to draw her hand upward, running her palm over Sansa’s damp skin, brushing it over her stomach, along rips, she could feel rise and fall with heavy intakes of breath, over her breasts, her cleavage, settling it at last over her pounding heart.

At last she stilled all movement instead enjoying the sight of Sansa, watching her trying to regain her breathing, as her eyes fell close again.

Gods she was beautiful. Her perfectness was something that caught her by surprise again and again anew, at least once a day or so.

And she was hers, and hers only.

Margaery leaned down and kissed slightly agape lips softly, only gently darting out her tongue to lick along them.

She drew her fingers through hair that was the tiniest bit damp, placed another series of soft pecks over her cheeks, her nose, her closed eyes.

Sansa still lay next to her drawing heavy breaths of air into her lung, her eyes closed, her lips opened as if she was still caught completely by surprise with what had happened.

“Did I break you?” She smiled as she breathed the words against Sansa’s cheek.

Eyes did not open, but a soft smile bloomed on Sansa’s face.

“Close.”

Margaery smiled as she moved on top of Sansa, covering her like a blanket, snuggling her face into tightly into the crook of her neck.

“Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> ... so is it just me who is disappointed that the threesome didn't happen?  
> Would love to hear what you guys think!


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